Chapter 21

21

He’d, like, totally blown her off. Abby bit back saying what she wanted to say as Fletcher told her no and just left her there. Braelyn and some of their friends had heard him say he didn’t want to dance right now. Why?

Why didn’t he? Abby looked good. She was wearing her best dress, and it wasn’t too low. Desmond had always gotten angry when she’d worn dresses that were cut low. He’d said a woman didn’t have to dress like a slut to get a man’s attention. He was a man who had grown up knowing how rich women should behave. Desmond had told her how to look the part. When they’d discussed what Abby wanted for her future. Desmond had wanted to help her.

Yes, they’d broken up a few years ago, but it was so he could focus on building his law practice. That was all. Abby had done what he’d suggested. Maybe he had taken off after what had happened with his dad—everyone was saying he was a criminal—but Abby didn’t believe that.

He’d probably just ran because he was afraid for his life. Desmond had understood her.

Just like she’d always understood what he was looking for from life.

She was glad she hadn’t married him, though. With him taking off and his father being a criminal and everything. It would have been horrible and mortifying to be left behind. They had discussed it, getting married. They had decided to wait until he had finished a special project he had never told her about fully. Desmond had been all about appearances.

If she had married Desmond, she’d have felt bad divorcing him eventually. But Abby didn’t want to be married forever. She just wanted to be married long enough for it to help her move up. That was all. Abby had goals, plans. She wanted a better life but didn’t want to be stuck with a man to make it happen.

“Come on, Ab. He’s obviously in a bad mood,” Braelyn said, pulling on her arm. Braelyn was always trying to make Abby feel better when something went wrong.

She was the best friend Abby had ever had. “I don’t know what his problem is.”

“I think Dylan is his problem. He’s been glaring at her all night. Maybe they are fighting again,” Caitlyn said quietly. “Dorie said they came together but Dylan’s with Quade Davis right now.”

Caitlyn had a serious crush on Quade Davis. It was a little pathetic.

Dylan was such a bitch. “I hate her. She just causes trouble.”

“Just don’t think about her. Come on, we can dance with Danny and Hayden instead,” Braelyn said.

Abby didn’t want Hayden Stupid Rutherford. She wanted Fletcher Tyler. He was the man she had planned for tonight. She just sank into the chair at their table and watched.

That stupid Dylan was dancing with Quade Davis now. Why did she have to do things to make Fletcher act like that? She had a rich Hollywood actor--why did she need Fletcher, too? It just wasn’t fair.

“I heard she’s his housekeeper now,” Caitlyn said, all big-eyed like she usually was. She was such a nerd, all she ever wanted to do was read a book or study. “Everyone is talking about it. Teasing him since his uncle married his housekeeper and some of his cousins were housekeepers who married their bosses too.”

“But Fletcher hates Dylan. She stole his truck. I’ve heard them arguing at the hotel too,” Braelyn pointed out. “That would never happen.”

It wouldn’t. Abby wasn’t going to let it.

The dance ended. Dylan and Quade Davis found a table. They were just talking and laughing like crazy. As Abby watched, Fletcher’s brother and Dylan’s sister sat down with them. Then Fletcher was there.

Right next to Dylan.

With his hand on her chair and everything. Scooting her closer to him. He was looking at Dylan again. Abby couldn’t tell if he was angry or not. He wasn’t smiling.

He just wasn’t.

Dylan was looking at him now. But she looked a little nervous or something.

Or like she was planning something.

Tylers slept with and married their housekeepers? Really? Maybe Dylan had heard that too? That was why she was his housekeeper now.

Dylan wanted Fletcher. Or Quade. Because…Hunter had put her cousin in a movie, right? Fletcher’s ex-girlfriend. That bitch right there.

Maybe Dylan wanted to use Fletcher too.

And she’d found a way to get herself right there in his house all the time.

She was going to seduce Fletcher and take him. Abby knew that had to be Dylan’s plan. It just had to. Abby just sat there and watched them—until the dance was over and Dylan left with Fletcher instead of Quade Davis.

Why? It just wasn’t fair. Abby had been planning tonight for weeks.